For Better or For Worse by Lynn Johnston for June 21, 2020

ain’t that sweet, John? breakfast in bed from the kids

Breakfast is nice but they really need to work on that “letting you sleep in” part.

Oddly enough, the only one of them who didn’t make any noise was Farley.

The thumb that just changed a diaper?

Mom, April is disrespecting the holiday because she’s a baby!

With the best intentions ….. but breakfast in bed and all those crumbs on the sheets, bah !

My first Father’s Day as a father, I got up early. I made breakfast for my wife and prepared formula for my son. I then tucked the boy next to his mother and then delivered breakfast in bed to them both. The self-serving part was that I got to read the Sunday paper and drink my coffee undisturbed. My rationale was they were the two who made me a father.

My husband rarely sleeps in, unless he’s been sick. He’s so accustomed to getting up really early that to him, sleeping in means 7 or 8 am.

How “thoughtful” of them…

Well, no working on the “Honey-Do” list today and maybe John can sneak a nap in later.

This is kind of a sad Father’s Day for me this year. I only have one “Father” to honor this year, and that’s my husband (not that he doesn’t deserve the honor…he’s an awesome Dad). My father died 2 weeks ago, my father-in-law died in 1998, and both of our grandfathers died years ago (mine before I even turned 10). I made a pretty photo collage celebrating all of them on Facebook. My husband almost cried when he saw it.

Smile and pretend to be love it, John! Fake it until you make it!

A father? Sleep in? Never happen. Never did in my house.

Never mind the noise, just cherish the moments.

Maybe he didn’t get to “sleep” in, but he got to stay in bed for a bit longer. If they had been sneaking around he would have to get up to see what they were doing. Happy Fathers Day!!

Poor poor dad.

I never understood the supreme honor of breakfast in bed. I would consider it more like… torture?

My neighbor next door is in his backyard, shooting at the many chipmunks in his yard, with his BB gun. I hear this going on, several times a day. He gets a kick out of it. The neighbor across the street’s cat, comes over and retrieves the dead ones. Maybe the guy got a new box of BBs for Father’s Day. He goes through enough of them.

I’m different. I like to be the first one up and have the whole house to myself for 90 minutes or so. Let the dog out and drive to a doughnut shop just down the road. I get there just as the day’s production is coming out of the fryer. A dozen fresh glazed, still warm. Back home. Make a cup of coffee, go out on the porch, fire up the mosquito trap, light a few citronella candles, and settle back to watch the sunrise.

What’s happy about it? So far…

My dad loved loud obnoxious ties so that’s what he got every Father’s Day when we were teens. We had so much fun finding them for him. The loudest one he called his “payday tie” and would wear it every Friday so the payroll clerk could find him.

Where’s my donuts?

Yet another reason to sleep with earplugs in.